Say It Again
by GigglingGirl
Summary: A really rather fluffy fic where Martha finally allows herself to fall in love.
1. Chapter 1

Martha turned to look at him, her pale blonde hair tapping gently at her face with the speed of the movement. Her bright blue eyes seemed to expel a mesmerising aura that locked him in her gaze. The blur of noise coming from the other punters acted as the background music, it was only his silk like voice that she could hear. It was only his voice that she wanted to hear. It brought warmth to her heart which was beating faster with every second. Her hand was gentle clasped by his. A soft thumb delicately stroked her skin. As he took a seat next to her, Martha felt his knee brush against hers. With every minute their intimacy was growing.

Martha's head felt like it was being held up by dream-like clouds that were floating around her. She knew it wasn't like her. Martha Costello knew that love wasn't a thing she'd ever been particularly accustomed to, well except for her love of the job. But, here she was in a fantasy. Yet, the thing was it wasn't actually a fantasy. She was sat hand in hand with the man she thought she might just love. And with that realisation, she didn't leave it up to him anymore. She leaned in and whispered those three words that meant the world to her, "I love you."

"Say it again."

She wasn't sure whether he was taking the piss or being romantic, but the wine had got to her head and she didn't care if she looked like a fool. "I love you, Clive Reader." With that she pulled her hand away from his and draped it onto his shoulder, then placing the other lightly on his neck. Her thumb emulated the movement that his had been making just moments before. Their eyes held one another's before Martha leaned into whisper, "I really do love you, Clive Reader." Her heart swelled at this concept that she could possibly feel like this, but, in fact, she'd been feeling this way for weeks.

With that realisation, Martha knew exactly what she wanted. Taking Clive by the hand as she had all those weeks earlier, Martha made her way out of the pub. The glorious rays of sunshine penetrated her skin, the warmth giving a glow to her cheeks. It wasn't often that the British weather was on side and this draw if luck made the barrister feel as if, just this once, her life was taking straight from the script of a film: she had the man and the weather - more than Bridget Jones ever got. The weather, having obviously gone to her head, gave her the sudden idea to walk home hand in hand with the man she loved. The notion having the unique duality of feeling both new and also ever so familiar made her almost giggle.

Their hands once more entwined, Martha leaned against Clive's arm. "It's quite funny, you and me." She causally added to the blissful silence.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, why not?" Clive questioned with utter reason in his tone.

"Because, because. Oh I don't know just because." The shock of the question had caught her off guard.

"We've known each other twenty years. You're hardly letting yourself in for a nasty surprise." Though this did make sense, it didn't quell Martha's worries. They'd always been through everything together. Pupillage, trials, even silk now. But, then there was a sort of fear, deep in her chest. 'What if it doesn't work out?' Martha knew her biggest fear: losing.

_"I need you to stay." Martha's mother's begs quelled a sense of guilt within her. That was it. Finally, her mother had said the words she knew that had been on her mind since she's received her first university offers. She was smart, but everyone knew that a working class girl from Bolton didn't get into university to study law. It was just unheard of. But, Martha did. She surprised everyone, herself and her mother included. _

_"I can't," questions flew through Martha's head: 'why had she waited until now? Two weeks before I am meant to go.'_

_"He won't remember you."_

_"It's not him that needs me," Martha tried to reason, but she knew from the aguish sight of her mother's face that she's gone too far."_

_"Is that a risk you are willing to take?" Her mother's tone had taken on a bitter quality, and Martha wondered whether she's detected a hint of jealousy. Was her mother jealous that she was the one who could get away?_

_"Sometimes the risk we have to take are worth the dreams that we might just be able to achieve." The room was silent for what felt like an age, "mum, you know how much this means to me and how long I've wanted it."_

Martha stopped for a moment, her thoughts began to collect to form something that might make sense. Was Clive something that she had wanted for a long time. Was it a risk worth the dreams that could be made possible?

Maybe it did make sense.

"I love you, Martha." Clive's declaration hung in the air. He never did this sort of thing. This commitment thing. Niamh was a fling that was never going to happen. George, now George, that was never going to work out. His heart wasn't in it. More to the point Billy's heart wasn't in it. It was just a bit of fun. The worst part of his sorry series of relationships was that was just the past year. Then something clicked in his head and be realised that now was not the time to be thinking about this. Now was about Martha. The woman that has always been there. Through all of his flings and affairs. The woman who would clear her diary just for him. She would be there for him in a heartbeat. It was her that was there when he did his knee in. She was always there despite everything.

"Clive?" His internal monologue was suddenly interrupted by Martha's questioning whisper of his name.

"Hmm?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Clive asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Yes, I will marry you." Clive took one long look at Martha. Her face was glowing. Her bright blue eyes gleamed in the pearly pool of her tears. Her lips were turned up at the corners forming smile that was perfect to him. Just looking at her made his heart swell, but the idea that she was going to marry him almost sent him into cardiac arrest.

As all of his emotions caught up with him, Clive stood and took his fiancé into his arms twirled her around the room in an expression of his jubilation. Her laugh erupted and his quickly joined. This was music to their ears. The realisation of after twenty years they were going to get married was bizarre and beautiful both at the same time.

Their movements slowed until Martha was just being held in Clive's arms. Standing on her tiptoes she whispered the same words that had made her fall for him all over again. "I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you, Clive Reader."

"Are we really doing this then, Marth?"

"Yes, Clive." Her heart began to pound. What was he doing? Was he joking? Was she wrong to risk everything?

"Well we better do this properly then." Clive dropped to one knee and fished his hand into his pocket.

"Clive, what the hell are are you doing?" Her words came out amongst splutters of giggles.

"Martha Costello, will you do me the very great honour of marrying me?"

"Oh of course I bloody will, you soppy git. Now get up here and give me a snog."


	3. Chapter 3

_I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I have taken a small part from the series three, episode one script. Therefore, all rights of that part and the characters belong to Peter Moffat. _

* * *

Martha, whilst lying in Clive's bed and with his arm draped around her, let out a blissful sight. She felt so content just lying in bed, staring at the plain white ceiling. She raised her left hand into the air, her fingers pointing straight up, towards the ceiling. She let out yet another blissful sigh at the sight of her new ring. It's wasn't much. She didn't want much and it definitely wasn't a diamond. Clive had gone for a pearl, she liked the idea of how the pearl had to be worked for, something that was created from nothing more than a piece of dirt, she liked that it mirrored her life. Although, a part of her hoped that wasn't the reason why Clive had chosen it.

Having finally decided to stop being such a hopeless romantic, and also deciding that it most certainly did suit her, Martha dropped her arm and found Clive's hand with her own.

Lying in the peaceful silence, hand in hand. Clive focused on listening to the gentle inhale and exhale of his beautiful fiancée. Even in the morning, having just woken up, she was so beautiful. The thought that he would wake up to this feeling every morning for the rest of his life made him more sure than he'd ever been that he'd made the right decision in asking Martha Costello to marry him.

"Clive?" Martha's words interrupted their silences, but her words were always welcome to Clive.

His response of mummers were unintelligible to many, but Martha's years of practice allowed for her easy cipher of his humming. But Martha wasn't satisfied, "Clive, this is serious."

These words called for Clive to turn onto his side, his and Martha's faces were almost touching, he could feel her warm breath on his face, something about it warmed his heart. "Yes, Martha, you have my sole attention. No other woman in this room has a single ounce of my attention."

"Clive, I do hope that there is not another women in this room." They had a chuckle at this, embracing Clive's womanising nature. "Who would he have been? Or she?" Martha's voice wasn't full of it's usual buoyancy when talking to Clive. It had a taken on a sadness that lingered in her eyes.

"Mmm?"

"The child we didn't have. Boy? Girl? Astronaut?" Clive's eyes held Martha's gaze. He saw the sadness and the unanswered questions.

"Maybe we would have been given the cruel irony of having a police officer as a daughter. Or son." Clive added, correcting himself. But that wasn't the point. What he wanted to do was what he achieved: he watched Martha's pale lips curl up into a small smile.

"What if I wanted another baby?" There it was. The question that had been lingering on her mind of a while. Her heart skipped a beat every time she saw a baby recently. The park, supermarket or even court. She looked to Clive to gage a response. But her mind could't help but wander back three years. She still remembered the pain she was in, fresh as the day it happened. But she couldn't quite tell if it was the physical pain or emotional that she remembered. But, it hurt a lot. She wondered whether she still had the little whir baby grow she'd bought. It had the most beautiful embroidery. She remembered that she'd found it whilst looking for a decent suit that would have accommodated her pregnancy. It was a beautiful shop too. She hadn't really intended on going in there. But after the miscarriage she wished she never had. The beautiful white baby grow was just another reminder of what she had lost. She thought for a little longer, maybe it was still wrapped in tissue paper, in the box with the ultrasound.

"Martha, when we lost the baby, it broke off a little bit of my heart. I had so many plans for me and you and the baby. But, to have to sit outside that court with you. With you crying on my shoulder, now that truly broke my heart. For a long time, still now, maybe, I felt so guilty. I should have been there for you. If I had been there with you maybe Gary Rush wouldn't have intruded on your life so heavily. Maybe we wouldn't have lost the baby." Clive could see that Martha was almost in tears, but that wasn't his intention. All he wanted to do was be honest. Something that he usual doesn't take the time to do. "Martha, to have a child with you would simply add to this current perfection. Do you want a baby?"

"I want a baby. I want a baby with you."

"Did I ever show you the ultrasound?" Martha asked. Maybe it would be cathartic. And, she felt Clive needed to see it too, it was his baby as well.

"I don't think you did, actually." Clive said with a soft hint of curiosity.

Martha sat up and padded across the room to gather her dressing gown and slippers. Clive watched as her night gown swished around her thighs. Her legs were beautiful, not too thin. But soft and pale and quite gorgeous. Martha motioned for Clive to follow her. She continued down the corridor to the closet in the hallway. She opened the doors and looked for a moment, until she spotted what she was looking for, reaching on her tip-toes, showing a hint of the curve of her thigh and her bum. Clive was watching on with hesitance and intrigue.

Martha pulled down the brown box and walked over to Clive, opening it, her fingers brushed against the soft cotton. She pulled out the small square photo and her heart broke again. She eyes lingered as she handed it to Clive.

It took awhile for Clive to really register what he was seeing, but when he did, his confusion in how to react was not concealed. One part of him wanted to break down in tears right there. But there was another part of him than knew he had to keep it together for Martha. She was far closer to the edge than him, and it was her that had to experience the heartbreak far more than he ever had. He stood there for a moment doing nothing. Then, his fingers outlined the white outline of his child, slowly and softly, thinking about what could have been. He looked up after a few minutes and saw Martha crying softly, with the baby grow in her hands. He embraced her and out her head of his chest.

"We'll get through it together." The words were as if the pain had just happened, but three years later, they were just admitting it happened together.


End file.
